


A Little Help

by venis_envy



Series: Mating Games: Round 2 [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fuck Or Die, Humor, M/M, made them do it, mating games entry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2145615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venis_envy/pseuds/venis_envy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Final installment of this year's Mating Games challenge. </p><p>Stiles assumed they could handle it. It's just a little magic, after all. No big deal, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Help

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't post this right after the challenge reveals because I intended to add more porn to it. That didn't happen.

Derek is honest to god _nuzzling_ Stiles' neck, clawing at his shirt when they finally stagger through the door of the loft.

Isaac is sitting on the stairs, wearing a look of pure amusement. Scott jumps to his feet.

"Stiles," Derek moans into Stiles' neck. It sends an inappropriate jolt straight to his dick.

"Scott, help me get him—"

"No," Derek growls, eyes glowing electric blue like he's ingested too much Spice Melange and Stiles is stuck in a bizarre-ass were-version of Dune.

Scott stares, slack-jawed, forehead creased in confusion as Derek glares down his almost-alpha.

His hand slips through the rip in Stiles' shirt, fingers stroking skin as his other arm wraps around Stiles, pulls him closer.

Derek hums something unintelligible into Stiles' shoulder, then drags his lips up the side of Stiles' neck.

"What the hell happened to him?" Scott asks.

"I don't know," Stiles says, trying to shrug out of Derek's grasp. "He was dick-slapped by a tantric tree elf?"

"I thought you said you guys had it handled."

Stiles puts a hand on Derek's forehead, pushing him back to avoid the embarrassingly messy kiss Derek's angling for. "Yeah, well, clearly I was mistaken."

A peal of laughter rings out, and all eyes snap to Isaac. "You know what Deaton said about—"

"Isaac!" Scott cuts him off. He looks back at Stiles, both eyebrows raised.

"I know," Stiles says, because he _does_ know. Sex magic is a _strange_ thing.

Derek moves behind him, one arm looping around Stiles' waist and mouthing the hair at the back of Stiles' neck. Stiles can feel Derek's hard dick pressed against his ass.

"Well, looks like you've at least got _this_ part covered," Isaac says, wrapping his asshole scarf around his asshole neck and making his way to the door.

Scott purses his lips as he takes in the spectacle.

Scott's aware of the arousal in the room, both Derek's _and_ Stiles' own. Stiles is past the point of being embarrassed about that. It isn't new.

Scott knows what'll happen as soon as he leaves, and Stiles isn't sure if Scott's more concerned about his best friend's safety, or his magic-drugged almost-beta's consent.

They do finally leave when Derek starts peeling Stiles' clothes off, whimpers of pain escaping him like he's running out of time. Scott throws Stiles a pained and apologetic expression as he follows Isaac out.

Stiles is afraid to move as Derek licks his way down, sucks a kiss into Stiles' hip. His fingers itch to rake through Derek's hair, but he isn't sure what's allowed.

Derek groans against his skin, nuzzles into the crease of Stiles' thigh.

"Uh...should we move to the—" Stiles half-gestures toward the couch.

"No time," Derek says, voice heavy with pain and apology.

Stiles' heart breaks.

He drops to Derek's level, kisses him as he undoes the button of his jeans and slides down the zipper.

Pulling Derek's cock free, Stiles gives it a few tugs. Derek sucks Stiles' lip, desperate, needy, and Stiles aches with something he doesn't even want to consider right now.

He pushes Derek onto his back and pulls the rest of his clothes off, taking a second to admire the beautiful body he's fantasized about for so long.

"I don't really know what I'm doing."

"Don't _care_ , just _do_ it," Derek snaps. And honestly, he's every bit as sexy when he's desperate and dying.

"What, like...anything? Because you know I've never done this. I mean, I've done _stuff_ , and I've Googled—"

"Stiles!" Derek growls. "Don't make me kill you."

Threats are good. Derek's first language is promises of bodily harm, so at least his presence of mind isn't altered.

Stiles takes a deep breath and fits himself in the space between Derek's knees. "Really need to work on your pillow talk, buddy."

Derek groans as Stiles leans over him and wraps his lips around Derek's dick.

Derek makes a sound that's part relief and part euphoria. It sends another shock of arousal through Stiles.

He picks up his speed, fists a hand around the base of Derek's dick to cover what his mouth won't fit, and continues to suck him, sloppy with spit and no finesse, but, _god_ , it's good.

Derek presses his fingertips to Stiles' shoulders, slides a hand up to his face and drags the pad of his thumb along Stiles' stretched bottom lip.

The touching is unexpectedly intimate, and Stiles shuts his eyes, forces thoughts of _more_ out of his mind and moans around the dick in his mouth.

*

He's not sure what time it is when the magic finally ebbs. The sun's rising, golden rays cutting through and striping the room in warmth.

"I'm sorry," Derek says, pressing his face in the crook of Stiles' neck. "I didn't want us to start that way."

Stiles tenses at Derek's words. "You...wanted us to...start?" He tries and fails at keeping the hope from his tone.

Derek just nods, wraps his arms more tightly around Stiles.


End file.
